Eyes of Liquid Fire
by Midnight Tango
Summary: What if Raoul was not the only one visited by a pair of golden eyes during the night? Based on the book by Gaston Leroux.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Phantom of the Opera_ in any of its forms or Erik. cries so don't sue me please.

**A/N:** This is my first fic so please me nice but if you feel the need to flame me- I do love roasted marshmallows:D Anyhoo- I had a dream that kind of went along this story line so I thought I might write it down. Enjoy the story! Please R&R! smiles

Snow fell down from the heavens like feathers from an angel's wing. The ground was a shimmering white wonderland full of fresh beauty. I sighed, fogging up the window in front of me with my breath. I wouldn't make it home tonight in the blizzard that lay before me. Mamma Valerius would have a fit if I did not come home for supper but I just couldn't chance it. Turning away from the swirling white landscape, I started to make my way to the Managers' office. Knocking quietly, I patiently waited for the managers to open the door. To my disappointment, I received no answer. I had been hoping they would have a few spare logs I could start a fire with. Alas, I would go cold during my stay at the opera house. The managers must have already left.

The Opera Populaire was cold and empty, a shell of the usually bustling theatre that I was accustomed to. Everyone had left early to get home before the storm over took us. Unfortunately, I had been detained talking with Meg. She only lived a few blocks away from the opera house and was able to walk home. I did not have that luxury. I considered walking to her home and asking to stay for the night, but I then remembered that today was the anniversary of her father's death and she would therefore be sharing a quiet evening of mourning with her mother.

I frowned, my stomach crying out for food and I realized how hungry I actually was. I walked the deserted halls in search of food and came across none. After attempting to get into the managers' office once more, I knew they would not mind if I ate an apple or two since I was their lead star at the moment, Carlotta had left yet again, I sighed and pushed a ringlet of blonde hair out of my face. It was getting colder and colder, so I decided to grab a few extra blankets out of the storage room and quickly made my way through the winding halls to my dressing room.

Shivering, I unlocked the door, the smell of roses and lavender meeting me as I swiftly opened the door. I set my collected items down and made my way over to my wardrobe where I pulled out the warmest nightgown I could find and a pair of very fuzzy slippers. Glancing at the mirror, I tried to detect any hint that Erik was watching me. All was silent from the world down below. Deciding I was safe, I pulled off my light dress I had been wearing. But, once I got the corset I stopped. Oh curse that infernal contraption and whoever created it! No matter how often I wore them I could never, for the life of me, get that damned thing off. Tugging on the strings, I managed effectively to cut my air supply off, but after some struggling, I ripped the thing torturous device from my body. I could have sworn I heard laughing but then dismissed it as my wildly over active imagination.

Slipping into my warm nightgown, I laid out my pillows and blankets that I had gathered, on the divan. I lit a single candle and placed it on the nightstand I had dragged over. Moving towards my desk, I turned off the gas lamp that I had illuminated as I walked in the door. The room got incredibly darker, but I knew I was safe. My dark angel, even if he was not behind the mirror, would most defiantly assist me if I came into danger. That still did not keep me from checking that my door was locked though. I then moved over to the divan and snuggled under the covers with my book and began to read. After a couple of chapters, I grew weary and blew out the candle. Tugging the blankets up to my chin, I fell into a dream filled sleep.

_The cool ocean breeze blew across my face as I walked along the beach toward the figure I knew to be my Father. He was holding his beloved violin but instead of playing, was staring out into the sea as if he were looking for something. When he heard me approaching, he turned and gave me a warm smile. I laughed and ran to hug him. But, before I could reach him a wave crashed making me jump. The sound was not what a wave usually makes. Out of the corner of my vision I saw a shadow move. _

My eyes flew open. The noise had not been in my dream. That noise had been very real. I glanced about my little room, but since it was dark as hell, I could make nothing out. Narrowing my eyes, I shifted to lie on my back and looked to where the foot of my makeshift bed was. Darkness and nothing more. I knew I was half delirious with sleep and decided to dismiss the noise as being part of my dream after all. Right before I closed my eyes, though, I saw a brief flicker of gold at the end of my bed. My eyes grew wide as I noticed that there were now two glowing golden objects floating in the air. I tried to keep my mind calm. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was still lost in that strange time between being asleep and being awake, so I did not think about whose eyes (yes I had realized they were, in fact, eyes) might have been. Instead, I was concentrating on how to get rid of them. Surely whoever it was had not noticed that I had awoken. I gripped the pillow under my head, suddenly being hit with inspiration.

Ever so slowly I glanced, through my eyelashes, to the foot of the divan. As I had expected, the eyes were still there. With no thought within my head except to vanquish the unknown, I sprang. I jumped from my resting spot to my silent onlooker. Catching whoever it was off guard, I landed right on top of them, continually beating the figure with my weapon. I was vicious, to say the least. Well, as vicious as one can be when armed only with an overly stuffed pillow. My victim, for now the tables had turned, struggled for a moment, but after a few whomps to the head, silently surrendered. I showed no mercy, my pillow battering lessened, but no mercy was given. I was completely startled however, when, from beneath me, I heard a strange noise. There was laughing coming from beneath me. It was a rich laugh, soft on the ears, and as tangible as black silk. It flowed over me, coursing through my body, and the pillow ceased its movements. The laughing did not stop and I was suddenly compelled to see who this wondrous laugh belonged to. Carefully, I reached for the gas lamp that I knew was hovering above my head on the desk next to where we had fallen. My hand made contact with the smooth surface of the knob and I flicked the switch, the light momentarily blinding me. As my eyes refocused I gasped at the scene before me.

Ivory feathers swirled about my room in a dance to an unheard beat. They flew in every direction, perfectly portraying the white storm that raged outside the opera house's thick walls. The dancing mass of feathers was not what startled me, however. What startled me was the fact that I was sprawled upon a hysterical Erik. His whole body shook with his laughter and from behind the mask covering his face, crystal droplets of salt water could be seen escaping from his closed eyes. Feathers were stuck in his raven hair and were strewn across his mask and clothing, the brilliant white of the feathers standing out against the formal, black, evening attire. Truly the sight was incredibly amusing. I could not resist joining in Erik's mirth, so lovely was his laughter. He opened his eyes again and as we laughed I could not help but gaze into their blazing inferno. They were hypnotic in a sense, but the true brilliance of them came when examining his whole face. From behind the black mask, they sparked and burned. The usually ever present hatred in those eyes was now replaced with thousands of emotions, the most prominent being amusement. Imagine the absurdity of it, me, a young woman, reducing the great Phantom of the Opera to a laughing heap of feathers and clothing. I laughed even harder. Slowly though, our laughing dispersed as I came to the realization of how awkward my position really was. It dawned on me that I was lying on top of a man in a most un-lady like position but in that moment I could not have cared less. I smiled sweetly at him and laid my head against his chest, fatigue slowly taking its toll on me. Erik moved his arms to better accompany me and slowly stroked my golden hair. Nothing had yet been said between us. This seemed to dawn on him and he cleared his throat.

" Excuse me for intruding, but I heard you talking in your sleep and came to see if you were alright." I raised my head to look at him, silently noting the way it felt when he spoke and his voice rumbled through his lean yet muscular body. He continued,

"I brought you some extra blankets and food in case you were uncomfortable. I had every intention of returning home as soon as I left your things but when I saw you I could not help but stay. Truthfully you are an incredibly beautiful woman _mon ange._" I blushed, and gazed into the once frightening eyes of my dark angel, but only found comfort in the golden orbs.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you, I should not have stayed."

I quieted him with a finger to him incredibly soft lips.

"_Non, mon ange de Musique, _I am glad you came, it was quite lonesome by my self." I laughed softly.

"You really did give me a fright, but I should have realized it was you, no one else can mesmerize me with one glance." I was about to continue when I felt the soft pressure of his lips covering my own. I knew I should not have enjoyed that kiss so much, for I was engaged to Raoul. And yet, with that simple kiss, it completely fled my mind and I was Erik's and Erik's alone. I cared about nothing else, in fact, besides the man kissing me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck again, breaking our kiss to nuzzle my face against his chest. We stayed that way for a long while, in each other's arms, and that was how we awoke the next morning. I gazed down lovingly at the man that lay beneath me. I knew I had feelings for my Angel, but before, I was never able to properly place them. I knew now. I loved this man in all his dark glory. His face was only that, a face and nothing more. The soul that lay beneath his mask was true beauty, a soul that I could help take flight. I loved my Angel, my Phantom. I loved my Erik.

_Fin_


End file.
